


Watchful

by Fierceawakening



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 13:44:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holiday giftfic for TFPAddict, who wanted to know a bit about how Thundercracker and Skywarp react to Megatron. Thundercracker and Skywarp corner Megatron after one of his meetings with Starscream and find out just what he's agreed to and what he hasn't. And tell Megatron a few things about what Starscream wants as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watchful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TFPaddict](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFPaddict/gifts).



"Megatron."

The big mech turned, his optics widening. Only his audiences in the deathmatch arena knew him by the shortened version of his name.

The sight that met his optics was no less surprising. A slender mech regarded him, flicking black wings. Purple light obscured their tips, as if the mech had stepped halfway out of some bright, distant dimension.

"Skywarp," Megatron murmured, watching the purple shimmer fade. Few mechs on Cybertron could teleport, and Megatron had heard of only one Seeker with the ability. Teleportation wasn't usually necessary for the fastest flyers on the planet.

Besides, only three mechs in Vos had the honor of wearing the horn of royalty in the center of their foreheads. And only one wore it painted purple.

"We want to speak to you, warrior of Kaon," said another voice, over the roar of a rumbling engine. Its owner stepped from the shadows a moment later. Unlike his companion, no flash of light nor hint of space beyond came with him.

Like his companion, he was small and lithe, wings rising in a graceful sweep up from his shoulders. His wings and frame alike were blue, and even the thin plating of his face had a sapphire tinge. He too bore the horn of Vosian royalty, his own a deep indigo.

He frowned, crimson optics fixed on Megatron, his optic ridges creased.

 _And you must be Thundercracker,_ Megatron thought. Two-thirds of the Elite Trine, both coming to see him.

It didn't bode well.

"Of course," Megatron answered carefully, looking from one Seeker to the other. He shifted his weight, sliding one broad leg behind him. He hadn't come here for a fight, but if these two were looking for one, he would be ready. "It is a rare honor for an outsider to speak with the Winglord's elite."

He smirked. They would expect arrogance from him. "Is your Winglord with you?"

Thundercracker's optics flickered. His engine roared again, a deep growl that made the floor under Megatron's feet vibrate.

That was impressive, especially from one of the smaller Seekers, built for speed and agility in the air rather than for bulk or force.  _What else can those engines do besides make noise?_ Megatron wondered.

"We wanted to talk to you  _without_  Starscream," Skywarp put in, stretching out purple claws as he stepped toward Megatron.

The big mech growled. "You do know that he refused me?"

Thundercracker didn't look convinced. His wings flared out in challenge.

"I don't think he did," said Skywarp. "He gave you the weapon prototype he was working on."

Megatron held up an arm. Freshly mounted to his forearm - and freshly painted the deep purple he and his followers favored - was a massive cannon.

Fusion cannons were normally heavy artillery; only mechs that transformed into shuttles or cities could usually wield them. The weapon adorning Megatron's arm was massive, so big he shouldn't have been able to raise his arm to aim it. But the young Winglord of Vos had been working for several centuries now on a compact design made of experimental alloys.

Megatron suspected that Starscream had originally intended to design a weapon for the larger-framed Seekers, a rechargeable cannon that would prove as powerful as their bombs. But even the bulkier Seekers were built for graceful and swift flight, and even Starscream's lighter, smaller cannon would have been heavy enough to interfere with their flying.

A gladiator of Megatron's size was another matter entirely.

Thundercracker and Skywarp were the Winglord's elite - the two wingmates who flew at his sides in ceremonies and in battle. While Vos had not fought in war in many millennia, if any mechs were ready to battle the greatest gladiator of Kaon's arena, it would be these two.

But they were distracted by the prototype, and Megatron was already feeding charge to his weapon. He fired, sending a bolt of pure purple energy hurtling toward the wall between them. All three watched, transfixed, as it collided with the wall, lightning flaring over the metal as it blackened and burnt.

Thundercracker's engines boomed. "You -"

"It works," Megatron interrupted, his voice calm.

"Nice," murmured Skywarp, staring.

Thundercracker rounded on him. "Nice? This mech - this  _stranger_ \- just shot up the hall of the Great Aerie."

Skywarp shrugged, optics still fixed on the wall. The metal had melted, and blackened again just as quickly, hardening into blobbed and twisted shapes. "He was showing off. If he meant to hit us, there'd be a hole where someone's wing used to be."

"Maybe so," said Thundercracker. "But I don't have to like it. This mech is an outsider."

"Skywarp is right," Megatron said, lowering his arm and stepping closer. "If I meant to harm you, you would be dead."

"I don't think so. I'm not as impressed with you as Skywarp is." Thundercracker flicked his wings. "I have better things to do than spend my time gawking at brutes beating one another to scrap in your deathmatch arena, Megatronus. Or whatever exactly you're calling yourself now."

"Megatron," Skywarp muttered, flicking his wings and glowering at his wingmate and the gladiator alike.

Megatron smiled, scarred lip plates drawing back to reveal sharpened fangs. "Right again. And interesting. I knew Starscream followed my fights, but I'd never figured you for a fan."

Skywarp kept scowling, but Megatron noticed the corner of his lip plate quirking into a smile, seemingly against his will. "Starscream's not the only one who knows what's going on in Kaon and the Badlands."

"Or the only one who follows the fights," Thundercracker muttered in a low voice.

"Well, I -" Skywarp stammered, surprised. "It's impressive, that's all."

Megatron's lip plates curled in a slight smile. "I'm glad to see that the pits of Kaon are impressive even to one of Vos's elite," he purred.

"It's Starscream we're concerned about," snapped Thundercracker. "The rest can wait."

Megatron nodded. "Understood," he said, his voice grave.

"Starscream gave me this -" he moved his arm again "- and promised his aid in redesigning the flightless Decepticons to grant them wings. That is all."

"All?" Skywarp's optics widened. "That's a tall order. Weapons and modifications. He must be pretty excited about your little revolution."

Megatron laughed. "True enough. But I came here for an alliance, not for fancy toys. And I told you already that Starscream refused me that."

"Did he?" Thundercracker growled, the roar of his engines underscoring his words.

Megatron's optic ridges rose in surprise. "You doubt your own Winglord?"

"Starscream does what he wants," Skywarp answered, his lip plates curling down in a pout.

"And he wants an alliance with the Decepticons?" Megatron shook his head. "I don't think so. He had some choice words for me. And some things to say about my army, as well. What was it he called them? A pack of thugs and street fighters, drawn from the Badlands and the deathmatch arena."

"Or busted out of Kaon prison," Skywarp finished, his optics bright with amusement. "We know. We've heard him talk about it. He never stops, actually."

Megatron's head snapped up, his own optics gleaming. Starscream had talked about him? Perhaps his negotiations with the young Winglord had been more successful than he'd thought.

"It's not the alliance we think he wants," Thundercracker said, stepping closer to Megatron. He flared out his wings and stuck out his chestplate in challenge, and the booming vibrato of his engines made Megatron's audio receptors ache.

"Then what - ?"

"You," Skywarp snapped.

Thundercracker's engines roared again, a sound so loud that Megatron could barely hear his own cry of protest. Warrior though he was, he raised his hands to the part of his helmet that covered his audio receptors, his claws pricking the metal as they clenched, reflexively struggling to drown out the sound.

But the damage had already been done. Megatron had already heard Skywarp's blurted confession, and everyone in the room knew it. The blast of sound from Thundercracker's engines faded to a dull percussive growl, and Megatron peeled his claws from his helmet, his optics flickering with pain. He could feel scratches grooved into the surface from where his claws had bitten deep.

Still, it was a worthwhile price to pay for the information Skywarp had let slip.

"Me?" he asked, smirking.

Starscream had been flirtatious, flicking his wings and dancing around the prototype as he showed it off. He'd mocked Megatron's warnings of war on the horizon, sliding closer and then slipping away. All that showed amusement - or a prince's penchant for toying with his lesser. Megatron had no doubt he was interested. But whether the nature of that interest went beyond caprice, he hadn't been sure.

"You're his type," Thundercracker confessed, grumbling.

"The only one who knows more about the fights in Kaon than me is Screamer," Skywarp put in.

"Is that so?" Megatron grinned again, his fangs gleaming.

"It might be. I don't follow them myself," said Thundercracker with a haughty flick of his wings. "Besides, knowing who Starscream is taken with this week won't help you. He does what he wants, like Skywarp said. But even he knows better than to hang the future of the city on his whims."

The blue mech's optics brightened, burning harsh and angry red. "Or his lusts."

Megatron held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. The cannon atop his arm powered down with a low hum; he could still feel the heat of the energy he'd fed to it. The warmth lingered like the caress of some fierce lover, met on the field of battle and overpowered there.

"Understood," Megatron said, forcing his grin into a subtle smile. "I hoped for an alliance, that is true. But weapons and modifications are boon enough for my army. And a glimpse into your Winglord's mind is prize enough for me."

"Prize?" Thundercracker scoffed. "It's no wonder he refused you."

Skywarp looked from his wingmate to Megatron and back again, his lip plate curled in worry. "I don't know. That army gathered outside Vos -"

"Starscream made his choice," Thundercracker said, his engines rumbling.

"That is so," Megatron agreed. "I told him already that I will not challenge it."

Skywarp's wings twitched. "Where will you go?"

"Home. Back to my kin. Back to my army. And back to the revolution that they soon will begin."

Thundercracker's optics narrowed. "Then what good is it to know that Starscream likes the look of you?"

Megatron chuckled. "I'll see him again before this is over. I still need his schematics for the flight-capable frame designs, after all."

"That's not much of a promise," said Skywarp, shaking his head.

Megatron opened his mouth to reply, but Thundercracker spoke first, glaring at his wingmate.

"That's not the end of this," he said softly, the rumble of his engines a low growl beneath his words.


End file.
